


Sojourn of the SOUL

by Confetti94



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Frisk needs a little help to become Determined, Nonbinary Character, will add more as story goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:24:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5466596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Confetti94/pseuds/Confetti94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just because you're scared doesn't mean you're a coward. It takes all your bravery to stand down during an aggressive situation. Don't ever let anyone make you think your personal safety isn't important. Got that?"</p><p>In which events are a little different and Frisk isn't as determined as we thought they were.</p><p>(Probably discontinued, characters really OOC and plot not very constructed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Only A Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this is going, but let's hope its interesting? Please let me know if I've made any mistakes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Fixed the spacing!

The bundle of yellow flowers pooled in the center of the cave are a deserted island in a sea of dark, violet stone. Shifting among the petals, a small monster moves.

"There's nothing here, you know."

The monster's eyes are locked on a short, scavenging bird; hopping to and fro, the bird warbles and pecks at the fruitless floor.

"Why are you here? Coming here was a mistake," he jeers, mouth peeling into a wicked sneer. The monster jerks his head towards the light pouring in from the ceiling of the cavern. The sunlight wraps around his body like a cape, casting his face in shadow. The bird chirps. The flower stares back.

"Oh, right. I forgot. You can  _fly_. You can come and go as you please," he hisses, eyes squinting to make out the bird in the dark. "That, and you're not a monster. Your soul is disgusting." The bird faces the flower. He rises upwards, staring daggers at the innocent creature.

"Do you think it's  _funny_? Not being trapped? Mocking me? Ignoring me?" The bird tilts its head at him. The flower bursts into laughter, sunlight peeking in through gaps between his petals. The bird looks ready to take off any second, but only because it hasn't found any food yet. The flower blocks its path.

"No. You're not leaving here," he whispers, voice dripping with poison. " **E V E R**."

Flowey the flower rears up. Spiked vines emerge from the ground, forming a cage around the bird. The caged bird sings in reply.

Suddenly, the sunlight is gone.

Flowey whips around, straining his roots. His vines loosen, and the bird squeezes out through a gap; it flutters upwards, out of the underground to his friends above, leaving him behind.

Something comes crashing down from the hole in the cave, spiraling towards the posy of flowers below. Flowey burrows into the dark earth, safely encased in its purple arms.

The pale creature - a fallen angel, perhaps - lands on the yellow plants, whom embrace it in soft hands. Flakey bits of pollen scatter everywhere. The creature sneezes. Laying there for a moment, it screw up its eyes at the harsh sunlight; it dyes its body a glowing white.

Staggering to its feet, the small creature rubs its eyes and wanders around (aimlessly?) while shaking stray petals off its hair.

As it steps into a black room, lit only by a small slit of sunshine. Flowey pops up from the ground. The fallen creature yelps, jumping backwards.

"Woah, there. Quick on your feet, ain't ya?" Flowey says, looking amused. He watches the creature with unblinking, black eyes. "...You're not from around here, are you?"

A shake of a pale head.

"Well, howdy, then! Say, you don't happen to be a human, do you?"

A nod. The humans eyes are darting around nervously.

"Huh. Interesting." A smile is plastered on Flowey's face. It makes the human's skin crawl. "It was nice to meet you!"

The human blinks.

"You're not much of a talker."

No response.

"..." Flowey's eyes narrow a fraction of an inch. The human's achilles tendon tenses.

"Bye!" Flowey says, cheerfully. The human waves in farewell before bolting past him; Flowey blinks in surprise, not being able to react before they're gone. His summoned 'friendliness pellets' (as he would've told the human they were called) hover where the human had previously been, gyrating slowly. His eyes twitch in annoyance.

"So, a game of cat and mouse?" His smile curls, eyes glinting, full of malice. "I can do that."

The human pelts past strange frog monsters and flying little angels, breathing coming in harsh gasps. None of the monsters attempt to attack them; they can sense the urgency in the way they ran, and none wished to stop them.

The child eventually came to a grinding halt when they came across something laying (floating?) on the path. The flowers surrounding it looked like blood.

With extreme care, the human steps over the ghostly monster, mouth pursed in concentration. Halfway over it, the monster sits up and startles the child. The human trips.

The ghost monster sits up and looks at them, already staggering to their feet.

"Oh.....I'm sorry," it whispers, shuffling its...feet? "I didn't mean to.....um, I'll go now....."

The ghost disappears. The human sprints off without hesitation.

After a long while, the human passes a stark, black tree; the bark sharply contrasts the flow of the child's skin.

Pausing for breath, they look up at the giant doorway in front of them. The human's heart begins to pound. Walking up to the door, they reluctantly raise a tiny, bony knuckle and knock.

_Knock knock._

The sound radiates outwards, unnaturally loud against the vast silence of the cavern. The human looks ready to run at any sign of danger. There's no response from the inside of the house, and the child is about to enter on their own accord when -

"Do you even know how lives there?"

They twist around, hair swatting their face, and their eyes alight on a flower several feet from them.

"Fancy meeting you again," Flowey states, voice light. The human gulps loudly.

"You know, you're not supposed to enter a home without permission, right? It's kind of rude." The human feel sweat trickle down their back.

"Speaking of rude, it's rude to not give a proper greeting when you have a guest. So, sorry about that!" Flowey's smile is forced. The human notices.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm just here to help!" Flowey shifts his roots, holding out a leafy hand in greeting. The child steps back.

"Welcome to the ruins!"

"..."

"Like I said before, the name's Flowey!"

"......"

Flowey remains as still as a rock. Then he lets his leaf drop. The shift in the atmosphere is practically visible.

"You know what's going on here,  **don't you?** "

The human's silence answers the question. Yellow suddenly doesn't feel like a happy color anymore.

" **Then we might as well get to the point, shall we?** "

The vines that wrap around the human's wrists feel like vices. They struggle weakly. The green cuffs break the skin, sending trickles of dark blood rolling down pale fingers. A pale face twists in pain.

" **In this world, it's kill or be killed. Running won't save you here.** "

( _Please stop._  )

" **If you expect kindness from anyone, you're going to end up in a world of pain.** "

( _Please let me go._ )

" **I learned that the hard way. Now let me teach**   _ **you**_."

(  _Please don't hurt me._ )

The ropes tighten. The human shrieks in pain. The flower's face is twisted with pleasure. Bones begin to creak. There are footsteps from behind the door. Flowey doesn't hear them.

(  _Please_ \- )

(  _\- help me!_ )

And then -

" - GET AWAY FROM THEM!"

The door flies open with a resounding boom. The human is nearly flung skywards, but a soft paw grips their shirt. A large creature howls with rage, flurries of flame barreling towards Flowey. The flower's smile is gone in an instant.

"Well, shit."

Flowey shoots away, propelled by the flames. Breathing heavily, shaking their fist at the retreating flower, the human's savior smiles at them.

"Forgive me for taking so long, my child. I heard your cries and rushed as fast as I could. Please do not be afraid any longer. My name is Toriel, and I am the caretaker of these ruins. Are you hurt?"

The human dangles from Toriel's grip, spinning at the shirt's mercy. Toriel blinks and sets the human down; she gasps at the wounds around the child's wrists.

"Oh dear! That looks painful. Allow me to - " As Toriel reaches out, the human flinches away, eyes wide. Surprised, she retracts her hand and kneels down to the human's eye level.

"I apologize for frightening you, little one. I promise no harm will come to you anymore." Slowly, she holds out her paw and gently takes the human's hands in hers. "Dear child, what is your name?"

In a small voice, barely audible to the large monster: "...Frisk."

"My, that's a wonderful name!" Toriel praises, eyes bright. "Come along, now. I'll fix you right up!"


	2. Follow your Gut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goat mom patches up our wayward hero!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while, but I finally wrote this! Sorry for the wait. I apologize if this seems rushed in any way. I'm still sort of new to this! Expect a meeting with Sans next chapter ;^O
> 
> Edit: Fixed the spacing in here too!

The child -  _Frisk_ , Toriel reminds herself - scuttles alongside her, carefully keeping their distance from the large monster and constantly looking over their shoulder with a troubled expression pasted on their face. The new environment of Toriel's home does not help Frisk's uneasiness. 

"This way, my child," Toriel gently explains, "I will tend to your wounds over here." When Frisk twists their head around and stares at her blankly, she reaches out with a paw and steers them towards the living room. The fire residing in the fireplace, crackling in a docile manner, warms the room comfortably; Frisk looks confused upon entering and takes a seat on a large chair at Toriel's request. The seemingly bright home in such a dark, underground area is odd to the human. 

"One moment. I will grab the supplies I need. Please stay here." Toriel backs away and is about to leave the room when she pauses. "Er, do you...have any allergies?"

Frisk blinks in response. Toriel rephrases her words.

"Do you react badly to certain objects or scents, little one?"

At this, Frisk goes still. Seconds later, a taut shake of the head. 

"That is reassuring. Thank you, Frisk. Oh, and - do you prefer butterscotch or cinnamon? Just out of curiosity."

Frisk shrugs a little, kneading their fingers with uncertainty. Toriel places a hand on the human's head, causing them to jolt slightly. 

"It is quite alright if you like neither. There is nothing wrong with that. Anyhow, I will return shortly!" She retreats from the living room, disappearing around the corner. The moment Frisk no longer hears her footsteps, they jump to their feet and begin exploring the house.

( It's nice. It's warm. )

Trotting down a hallway, Frisk veers away from flower pots and finds a door unlocked; cautiously, they enter and scrunch up their nose at the musky smell. The room is the same color of the rest of Toriel’s house, but a little darker - almost as if it’s hiding something. A chest full of toys sits at the foot of a giant bed. A stuffed animal seems to stare back. Frisk quickly looks away.

( No windows. )

Frisk pushes through another unlocked door only to sneeze at the obvious accumulation of white fur in the air, confirming that the resident is Toriel. The room is a cold blue, reminding the human of the ruins outside of the house. Tiptoeing towards a table, they find a large book filled with neat writing. 

It’s filled with puns. This is both comforting and strange to Frisk.

The small human hugs their body and stares around the room, eyeing everything with curiosity - the furniture is much larger than the other room Frisk was just in. Perhaps others live here with Toriel? Frisk quickly leaves the room at this thought.

( No windows in there either. )

The third room, unlike the others, is locked; Frisk tugs at the doorknob with all their strength, but nothing happens. A sign on the door reads “under renovations” in large text, indicating its importance; Frisk wonders if someone new is moving in. Near the end of the hallway, a large mirror holds itself against the wall, reflecting Frisk in its gaze. The sight nearly scares the human out of their skin before they realize it’s _them_.

Their hair is speckled with bits of pollen; as Frisk combs their fingers through their hair, they feel tangles and knots from the rough journey they’ve been through. The human can barely look at their face, blending in with the pastel coloring of the wallpaper. Frisk smiles a little.

( It’s me. )

Curiously, Frisk backtracks and creeps towards a flight of stairs leading underneath the house; the stairway goes down so far it’s impossible to see what’s down there, and Frisk shivers as they feel a cool breeze waft from the unknown area below. Does this lead to the outside world? But why would it be going down, then? 

The cold makes their wrists ache.

Hearing a noise from the entrance of the home, Frisk scurries back to the living room and plops down into Toriel’s chair - the cushion makes a squeaking noise. A few seconds later, Toriel’s large head appears from around the corner. 

“I have returned with all the medical supplies,” Toriel explains, trotting up to Frisk and kneeling down on the soft carpet. Frisk eyes the bag she’s holding - it’s filled with gauze and bottles of fluid and other weird and unidentifiable medical stuff - and shifts uncomfortably. Toriel laughs softly, a soothing sound that is music to Frisk’s ears.

“Do not fear, little one. I promise, none of this will harm you. In fact, it will make you feel much better.”

Slowly, with careful paws, Toriel takes hold of Frisk’s injured wrists ands spreads a clear substance across the wounds; the human flinches, expecting the injury to flare up in pain, but the cream instead eases the aching of the slightly-swelled skin. Tories finishes wrapping the bandages around Frisk’s wrists, giving them a light pat as the finishing touch.

“There. All finished!” Toriel stands up, brushing off her dress and holding out her arm for Frisk to take. “Now, shall we take you to your new room?”

( New…room? )

Frisk’s eyebrows knit in confusion. Toriel takes that as an invitation to guide them down the hall. Frisk is practically dragged by the goat monster, almost completely lost in thought. Upon reaching the door to this “new room,” Toriel musses Frisk’s hair and apologizes for the mess inside (though for what mess, Frisk isn’t sure) and guides the human through it. 

Frisk has already seen it all, but they scurry around and look at everything to avoid upsetting Toriel. All the while, she stands at the doorway, watching Frisk with bright eyes. At a loss for things to do, Frisk clambers up onto the huge bed and burrows under the covers; Toriel makes a worried noise and touches her chin in thought.

“Oh dear. You must be awfully tired after all that has happened today, are you not? Please, take a short nap if you are feeling weary. When you wake up, I will have a surprise for…”

She covers her mouth, but it’s too late; Frisk head perks up and they eye Toriel excitedly. Toriel huffs, laughing at her slip up.

“I suppose it is not much of a surprise anymore. That is alright! You will experience it anyway,” Toriel muses, a smile dancing on her lips. “To commemorate your arrival to your new home, I have decided to bake a pie! A butterscotch-cinnamon pie, to be exact! That is why I asked you if you had any allergies before.” The goat clasped her paws together excitedly. “I should get started on that right away! Then we can eat pie together and have a conversation. I have so much to tell you about living here, Frisk.”

Frisk’s expression tightens. They fidget at her words, looking down at the blankets to avoid Toriel’s gaze, then let themselves fall onto the squishy mattress. Toriel quietly backs out of the room, shutting the lights off as she goes. Before closing the door, she turns around.

“Good night, my child. Please feel free to come to me if you have any bad dreams. I am always here for you.”

Despite her kind words, Frisk still feels anxious.

The next thing Frisk knows, they’re sitting upright on the bed and blinking sleep out of their eyes. A pie, still warm, sits on the floor at the bedside, and Frisk slides out of the covers to inspect it.

Frisk squats down and, while taking nibbles of the delicious frosting, relays the day’s events inside their head. They remembered Toriel’s way of speaking, how she regarded Frisk as if they were a permanent guest. Like they were going to live here from now on, forever.

( N o  w i n d o w s . )

Frisk jerks their head up, scanning the room. That’s right, there was nothing that - 

( N o  e s c a p e . . . ? )

They feel their breathing start to act up. Frisk shakes their head, bangs hanging down and blocking their eyes. Toriel wouldn’t make Frisk stay here, would she? Perhaps she was only saying such things because Frisk was staying to allow their wounds to heal. Toriel was such a nice individual - there’s no way she’d - 

( T r a p p e d n o e s c a p e n o r u n n i n g n o w h e r e t o g o n o e x i t s t u c k c a g e d - )

But even if she made them stay, this wasn’t a bad place, was it?

Was it?

Frisk’s actions spoke for themselves. Digging around in the drawers, Frisk finds an old coloring book - flower themed, with some of the pages ripped and torn - and tears out a piece of parchment, setting it on the bed. Then, dipping their finger in the pie’s frosting, Frisk shakily writes:

And then, as quietly and quickly as the human could, they crept towards the stairs with the strange breeze and descended down.

The shadows swallow them up and then they’re gone, Toriel oblivious in her living room above.


End file.
